


Snakes in the Garden

by LittleWoodenWorld



Category: Turn - Fandom
Genre: Abe’s a dick, Anncoe - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-31 07:08:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21109070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleWoodenWorld/pseuds/LittleWoodenWorld
Summary: Anna Strong has been drawn into treason and espionage by old ties, old friends, old lovers. Finding herself devalued and discarded by the Culper Ring, will she find her loyalty on shifting sands?





	Snakes in the Garden

In the dim firelight, Abe turned away, his fingers fumbling with with the buttons of his breeches. Anna stared at his back, willing him to speak, to say something to break the growing awkwardness of their silence.

’Pull your skirts down, for God’s sake. You look like a whore.’

She felt the bile rising in her throat as she hastily straightened her garments and got to her feet. A cold wet trickle of spent lust slid down her inner thigh. His lust; hers had been far from satiated. She hoped she wasn’t going to be sick — was this what rage felt like?

’Abraham...’

’You really should go.’

‘Look at me, damn it!’ Anna’s hand shot forward and gave his arm a rough shake. He turned toward her but refused to meet her eye. ‘What are we doing? You can’t even look at me, Abe! You’ll use me like a whore when it suits you but — ’

’Don’t pretend like you don’t want it. You started this, remember? Just — go.’

_‘You goddamned coward.’_

———————

Anna made her fumbling way back to Strong Manor through the darkness by memory, her ragged sobs making her feet stumble over obstacles hidden beneath the fresh blanket of snow and her eyes were blinded by hot tears of shame and fury. Clumsily her fingers scrabbled at the door latch and she fell forward into the warmth of the back hall. Hiccoughing, she tried to regain control of herself, to slow her heaving sobs. Anna leaned back against the door and let herself slide to the floor, wiping her streaming eyes on her sleeve. A creaking of floorboards made Anna’s head snap up, senses straining. A glimmer of light appeared at the top of the back stairs, throwing a long shadow against the wall. A light voice called down, ‘Mrs. Strong? Is that you?’

Panic made her breath shallow, but it had at least quelled her crying.

’Yes, Captain, I...was just...I thought I heard something outside,’ Anna stammered. She instantly regretted her words, as they would undoubtedly arouse Captain Simcoe’s chivalry — and there he was, materialising beside her with a blade in his hand, stealing softly through the door into the dark beyond. He made short work of inspecting the yard, and finding nothing, stepped back inside with the politest smile.

’All clear, ma’am. A fox, perhaps — my dear Mrs. Strong!’ The genuine distress in Simcoe’s voice caught her off guard. Anna, still wiping futilely at her face, tried to turn away, and gave a shaky little laugh. ‘What has happened? Forgive me, but — ’ His penetrating gaze took in her dishevelled gown, her sex-tousled hair, her swollen eyes and wet cheeks. The Captain’s mouth tightened, and he swallowed hard. His throat felt constricted, as though he might asphyxiate on his own jealousy and despair. ‘Can I be of any further assistance?’ he finished lamely.

Miserably, she shook her head. He looked so sincere, she thought, hovering near the foot of the stairs in his dressing gown, so earnest, so devoted to her welfare. He must have known where she’d been — her lonely tracks were still visible in the rapidly falling snow — and what she had been doing there (after all, their little affair was the worst-kept secret in Setauket)...but he still offered her help, still seemed as kindly disposed towards her as ever. A flood of renewed self-loathing broke upon her and Anna covered her face and wept.

In a moment, she felt Captain Simcoe’s large, steady hand upon her back, heard his soft voice murmuring reassurance. Trembling all over, Anna jerked herself away from him.

’Don’t! Don’t touch me. You wouldn’t want to taint yourself by associating with the village whore,’ she spat bitterly. ‘A traitorous, adulterous whore.’

’Mrs. Strong.’

’After everything I’ve done — all we’ve been through — all I’ve risked and lost and...he just...’ she spread her hands helplessly, ‘He just threw me aside like day old bread.’

’Anna.’

Simcoe brushed away a rolling tear as it coursed it’s way down her cheek. His long, elegant fingers lingered against her jaw. Anna felt them twitch slightly, nervously, and her heart skipped a beat. With incredible tenderness, he brushed the hair away from her face and bent slightly to look into her eyes.

’I don’t know what happened tonight — though I could hazard a guess — but what I _do_ know is this: Abraham Woodhull is a damned fool.’

His head bent, and still cradling her head in his hands, his mouth covered hers. His kiss was tender, undemanding, but his lips caressed hers with a gentle insistence that left Anna breathless and trembling. When they broke apart, Anna found she had linked her arms around his neck. The Captain’s eyes, shining with new-kindled hope, took in her tear-stained cheeks, and he bent close and traced each salty track with his lips. When he had kissed away the evidence of her grief, half-mad with the taste of her still wet upon his lips, he said huskily, ‘I promise...I will never give you cause for tears, Mrs. Strong.’

He moved away from her to fetch up the candle, returning to Anna’s side to offer her his arm. ‘It is late, and you must be exhausted. May I light you to your door?’

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to the wonderful Simcoe fans here and on Tumblr for inspiring and encouraging me!
> 
> Please excuse any weirdness in formatting etc as I transcribed this chapter from my notebook onto Ao3 on my phone while I’m waiting on a new laptop.


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